


And Down the Road

by isuilde



Category: Free!
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Unrepentant Fluff, Yamazaki Sousuke's Birthday Bash, mostly - Freeform, road trip (ish)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-14 23:11:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8032711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isuilde/pseuds/isuilde
Summary: There is a number of reasons why Sousuke had, inevitably, fallen for Gou, and among them is this:The way that Gou, before such question, just smiles, the corners of her eyes crinkling as her expression turns fond, if slightly embarrassed. The way she looks at Sousuke, ever-bright and openly honest, despite the slightest of fear behind her wobbly smile, as she says, “Um. Yes. Yes, I like you, Sousuke-kun.”(On a roadtrip, Sousuke and Gou both take a look back at how their relationship progressed.)





	And Down the Road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ad_Astra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ad_Astra/gifts).



> For the ever-fabulous, one of the best people in the world, [Ad_Astra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ad_Astra/pseuds/Ad_Astra), who also wants me to post this for Sousuke's birthday. It's been a while since I wrote Gou ships, I hope I'm not too rusty and you guys would enjoy this too. Happy Birthday Sousuke!!

He hates the traffic in Hachiouji.

Scratch that, Sousuke hates traffic in Tokyo. There’s a reason why he prefers to use the train despite having a car—a tiny, second-hand Nissan that his father had let him bring all the way to Tokyo because his family is buying a bigger car and there’s no room in their garage for the tiny Nissan that has been accompanying Sousuke since his childhood, which is the reason why Sousuke is attached enough to bring it with him to Tokyo rather than letting his father sell it. Rin never stops teasing him about it, though Sousuke thinks Rin has no room to talk, as he still keeps an out-of-ink pen from elementary school just because it was Sousuke’s first birthday present to him.

But that’s beside the point. The point is that Sousuke hates traffic in Tokyo—as rare as they are—and here he is, stuck behind the wheels and will be for the better half of the day, because Gou thought it would be a great idea to travel to Niigata by car. And because Rin and Makoto thought it would be a great idea to hold their wedding reception in Niigata. On March.

“If you keep scowling, your face is going to be stuck like that,” Gou sing-songs from the passenger seat next to him. One hand reaches out and fingers pull on Sousuke’s cheek playfully, forcing Sousuke to turn slightly towards her, and Gou giggles. “Oh wait, your face is already stuck like that.”

“I hate traffic,” he says—complains—for probably the twentieth time in the last fifteen minutes. Something in his brain corrects it into _I don’t even like driving_ , and he sighs, eyes turning back towards the slowly moving cars on the front.

Gou lets go of his cheek, patting it lightly with her fingertips instead. “There’s not gonna be any traffic once you turn left and enter the highway,” she says reassuringly. “And then it’s a smooth journey all the way to Gunma—oh, Sousuke, look!”

It’s not the tree that gets Sousuke’s attention at first. It’s the lone stray cherry blossom petal, skittering over the windshield for a split-second before the early spring breeze picks it up and away. Gou’s finger pokes over his jaw, pushing and redirecting his gaze to the sidewalk, where a cherry blossom tree blooms among the other still-budding ones.

A chin rests on his shoulder, and Gou’s laughter tinkles in his ear. “Early riser,” she murmurs, sounding amused but also half-awed. “It’s really pretty. Out of place, but still.” 

There’s a quiet click as their CD player plays the next track—dainty notes of piano floats in the air almost too sweetly, and Sakamoto Maaya’s airy voice fills the car. Gou’s murmur turns into a hum, a quiet tone under her breath as she sings along in almost-whispers. _Driving in the silence, driving in the silence_ , the song goes, and Sousuke’s lips curves into a smile.

He knocks the side of his head against Gou’s forehead lightly, and stirs the car to the left. 

**\-----o0o-----**

“Oh,” Gou says, once she’s plugged her right ear with one half of Sousuke’s earphone and Sakamoto Maaya’s song filters out. “You listen to this kind of songs, Sousuke-kun?”

There’s a chorus of terrified screech in the distance, and Sousuke takes a second to glance at the attraction Makoto and Rin had gone in to queue up half an hour ago. Raging Spirits, one of DisneySea’s roller coaster rides, with the loop and all. He wonders if they’ve already gone on the ride yet, and if Makoto would survive it at all. The Tower of Terror had rendered him white as sheets, but still, he’d swallowed hard and follow Rin to try out Raging Spirits because Rin had really wanted to.

Sousuke supposes that makes Makoto a great boyfriend.

Gou though, on the other hand, refused to even set foot in the vicinity of Raging Spirits. And Sousuke, despite actually wanting to try it out, opted to stay back with her rather than leaving her to wait outside alone. He doesn’t really want to hang around Rin and Makoto by himself when he knows it’s just going to be Rin grossly reassuring Makoto that it’s really not all that scary. Better to leave the lovebirds to themselves—it’s _their_ date, after all. It doesn’t matter that Sousuke had gladly tagged along because he could, secretly, pretend that it’s a double date with Gou.

Look, when you’ve been in love with your (overprotective, possibly has some sort of sister-complex) best friend’s younger sister for more than half of your life and you have no guts to make any move whatsoever because of said best friend, you’re allowed to scrap the bottom of the barrel, okay. Especially when you’re pretty sure said younger sister really only sees you as another older brother.

“Yeah,” he wonders if he should change the song. Here they are, just the two of them, sitting on the bench with a bucket of popcorn and a pork gyouza, waiting for the lovebirds to come out of the ride. “Her songs are good. Why, you don’t like it?”

“Hmmm,” Gou says, curiosity in the lilt of her voice. “No, I just never thought you’d be listening to this kind of… cute songs? I guess. I mean,” she gestures vaguely over Sousuke’s body, leaving Sousuke’s brain to fill in the blanks— _big? Too muscular? Looks like a thirty years old salaryman who goes to the gym?_ “You don’t look like it?”

“You listen to RADWIMPS,” Sousuke points out. Gou laughs.

“Okay, you have a point,” she relents, the last peals of her laughter petering out like summer wind chime, high-pitched and sweet. Sousuke stares, Sakamoto Maaya crooning in his ear— _Loving you means loving myself, loving myself means loving the world_ —and forgets about the pork gyouza in his hand.

Gou’s ponytail bounces as her head nods lightly to the music, one finger tucking stray bangs behind her ear, nearly upsetting the Minnie Mouse ears perching atop her head. There’s a light sheen of sweat over her forehead, a testament to Tokyo’s scorching summer sun, and Sousuke’s eyes follow a drop of sweat rolling down the side of Gou’s face.

The piano notes in his ear blends into acoustic guitar, and Gou blinks, turns slightly to him, eyes wide and surprised.

“Sousuke…kun..?”

He sees his finger—wait, _his_ finger?—pressing against the line of Gou’s jaw, stopping the drop of sweat on its track. Soft skin under his thumb, damp of perspiration, and Sousuke thinks, _huh_ , before Gou’s wide eyes meet his own, and his brain _kicks_.

Eyes widening, Sousuke snatches his hand away, folds his fingers into a fist, before dropping it as far away from Gou as possible. His mouth opens, an apology on the tip of his tongue, but his voice catches in his throat, and he says, “Uh.”

He sounds like he’s being strangled.

“Sweat,” he tries again, and Sousuke could literally hear his brain snort at him. He closes his mouth, takes a breath, and bends down to grab his backpack from under the bench, fishing out a small towel from the outer pocket. He bunches the towel in his hand in an attempt to stop it from shaking, before handing it to Gou. “Here.”

Gou’s mouth opens slightly, and Sousuke hears a soft “oh,” escapes through her lips. There’s hesitation in her eyes as she looks up at him, the gaze turning thoughtful as she reaches for the towel.

“Hey, Sousuke-kun—“

She leans forward, and Sousuke can’t tear his eyes away from the way her bangs sway in the dry summer breeze.

"I’m sorry if I get this wrong, but—“

Her hands curl around the towel, catching his thumb, but she doesn’t tug it away. Their eyes locked, and Sousuke literally has no chance against the determination in her eyes.

“—do you like me?”

This is surreal, Sousuke thinks, nearly awed, because there’s inexplicable hope in Gou’s eyes. Because Gou is still holding the towel, her forefinger still trapping his thumb, keeping him in place, and his heart can’t seem to decide whether it should freeze or take off for a marathon, and settles for irregular beat instead. Because there’s a soft shade of red over Gou’s cheeks—a shade that wasn’t there earlier, spreading all the way to her ears, and in their ears, the song still whispers: _but next to me is your heartbeat_ —

He opens his mouth, flounders to grasp any word and fails spectacularly because the only thing he could croak out is, “…Do you…?”

There is a number of reasons why Sousuke had, inevitably, fallen for Gou, and among them is this:

The way that Gou, before such question, just smiles, the corners of her eyes crinkling as her expression turns fond, if slightly embarrassed. The way she looks at Sousuke, ever-bright and openly honest, despite the slightest of fear behind her wobbly smile, as she says, “Um. Yes. Yes, I like you, Sousuke-kun.”

As a brother, Sousuke’s brain supplies. As her closest guy friend, other than the rest of Iwatobi guys. As someone she could trust. As a childhood friend. As anything but romantically, because Gou actually liking him back has never been an option, has never even been something he could think possible, so there is no way—

Except Gou is still kind of sort of but not really holding his hand, and Sousuke could feel her fingers shaking, too. Gou, sweet and brave Gou, who gives shapes to their feelings before Sousuke could even try to find his courage, because that’s always how Gou does things, isn’t it? Frank and sure of her own steps and choices, determined to get what she wants, and it’s impossible for Sousuke to not fall for that sort of brilliance.

He wants to answer properly. To give his feelings to Gou the way he would a Christmas present, wrapped carefully and tied with a heartfelt ribbon, so that Gou would accept it with that sparkle in her eyes and happiness in her smile.

“If,” his voice catches, and Sousuke clears his throat awkwardly. “If I do... like you, that is… uh. Does—does it mean this is… our date, too?”

That’s nowhere close enough.

But Gou—Gou blinks, almost like she’s dumbfounded for a moment, before a surprised laugh escapes her lips and she snatches her hand away to cover her mouth, leaving the towel and Sousuke’s hand hanging in the air. Sousuke slowly lowers the towel between the two of them, unsure as he looks up at Gou, and she’s—laughing.

Eyes dancing, shoulders shaking, and Matsuoka Gou shoves at his arm lightly as she giggles. “No! Oh my god, Sousuke-kun, don’t you know that it’s bad luck to go to DisneySea for your first date?”

Sousuke’s mouth falls. “It is?”

“It is!” Laughter light like summer bells, tinkles even under the distant screams of terrified attraction riders. Bright, bright eyes that shines with amusement and understanding, and Sousuke starts when he feels fingers find his own under the towels, holding close. Gou smiles, fondly if a bit shyly, and adds, “I guess that means we’ll be breaking up in no time.”

In their ears, Sakamoto Maaya ends the song with sweet whispers— _Driving in the silence, driving in the silence_ —and Sousuke grasps Gou’s fingers tight.

“I don’t want that,” he tells Gou, and watches her tilt her head with a smile.

“I don’t either,” she replies, and steals Sousuke’s pork gyouza.

**\-----o0o-----**

By the time their car slides properly onto the parking lot, the last guitar note of Gou’s favorite RADWIMPS song fades into silence, and Sousuke kills the engine. The rest area is quite crowded still despite it isn’t even time for lunch yet. Gou jumps off the car and scurries off to the general direction of the toilet after shooing him lightly towards the food court, where a souvenir shop, a bakery, and several food counters abuzz with customers, including a tonkotsu kiosk.

His stomach growls, because any time is tonkotsu bowl time for Sousuke’s stomach.

Gou comes back to a table for two and a big serving of tonkotsu bowl in front of Sousuke. She shakes her head, raising a critical eyebrow as she slides into the seat across him. “I thought we’ll be having a late lunch in Minakami,” she comments, watching as he digs into his food.

“We will,” Sousuke mutters, and doesn’t deign to elaborate because he’d really rather stuff more tonkotsu into his mouth rather than speaking. Gou smiles, easily amused, and snatches the bottle of water by Sousuke’s bowl. Through the water, Sousuke’s figure looks distorted, and she snorts before uncapping it and rising it to her mouth.

Sousuke is, of course, never too busy stuffing himself with tonkotsu to point out, “Indirect kiss.”

Gou pauses long enough to blow him a kiss, then proceeds to drain half of the bottle. 

**\-----o0o-----**

It’s not exactly her fault—these thoughts. If anything, it’s probably Yazaki Aki’s fault, because she’s the one giggling under her breath when they see Rin taking a bite off Makoto’s taiyaki, elbowing Gou on the ribs lightly as she mutters, “That counts as an indirect kiss, right?”

Gou stares at her ludicrously, mostly because she’s caught her older brother kissing Makoto too many times for her to care about an indirect kiss. “Aki-san, come on. I’m sure they do much more than an indirect kiss. Like, actual kissing?”

And Aki, bless her pure heart, or perhaps just because both her and Haruka are innocent, awkward daisies who don’t do anything further than _holding hands_ , according to Rin, blushes red to the tips of her ears. But the half-teasing lilt in her voice doesn’t change as she peers at her curiously, and whispers, “Have you? With Yamazaki-kun?”

“Huh?” And no, no, she’s not flustered, despite the amused chuckle Aki lets out at her reaction. She’s just—surprised. Which is normal, right, because who asks their friends if they’d kissed their boyfriends? Except _Gou_ has asked some of her best friends about that as well, back in high school, if only because curiosity needs to be quenched. “Aki-san, we’ve only been going out for three months—“

“That’s two months longer than I have,” Aki tilts her head. “At least an indirect kiss?”

Five hours later, and here she is, curled up in the coziest couch in Sousuke’s apartment with a can of Highball in her hand, going through her yearly Shinkai Makoto movie marathon, and the phrase still echoes in Gou’s ears: _indirect kiss_.

Heavy steps muffled by carpets resound behind her, the first signs of Sousuke coming back from the kitchen, a bowl of popcorn secure in his arm as he throws himself onto the couch, pressing close against her. “Where are we?” 

On the screen, Shinjuku Gyouen looks gorgeously green under the downpour. “Rain season,” Gou replies vaguely, which really doesn’t answer Sousuke’s question. He responds with a snort, one arm reaching out to steal Gou’s can of Highball. “Ah—hey, Sousuke!” 

She stares as Sousuke downs the last of the beer in one quick gulp, the phrase flashing in her head absent-mindedly: _indirect kiss_. This certainly does count, she thinks, but then again if Sousuke stealing her drinks and food count as indirect kisses, then that means her first indirect kiss from Sousuke must have been somewhere when she was five. It also means that she’s practically had probably a thousand indirect kisses with Sousuke, because she steals his drinks and food, too. 

Well. That explains her lack of embarrassment or heart racing—or everything else shoujo manga has drilled into her head concerning realization of indirect kiss happening between her and Sousuke. 

“I guess,” the words come out before she could think about it. “Indirect kiss isn’t exactly exciting for us.” 

Sousuke pauses, lowers his can, and just looks so adorably confused. “What?” 

“Nothing. Aki-san and I were just talking about indirect kiss, and I just realized that we’ve probably had a thousand of those, ever since we were kids.” She swats at him, taking back the empty can of Highball to set it aside on the coffee table, turning to look at Sousuke pointedly. “Also, get your own beer.” 

“Huh,” Sousuke says, sounding thoughtful. “Just now, that counts?” 

“I guess,” Gou shrugs lightly, leaning back into the cage of Sousuke’s arm without taking her eyes off the screen where Yukino is now reciting a _tanka_. “It’s already a habit anyway, between us? So there’s no—you know, heart-skipping second where you realize that _oh, it’s an indirect kiss_. So it’s not exactly exciting for us.” 

“Hmmm,” Sousuke says, and Gou startles because he sounds extremely close. A wisp of breath caresses her ear, passes the line of her jaw almost teasingly, and she tilts her head slightly, only to find Sousuke’s eyes, darker than the dimly lit room, inches away. 

Her breath catches. 

“Gou,” Sousuke murmurs, and Gou knows it’s a warning. She knows, because his breath against her nose is shaky, and his fingers on her shoulder are trembling. He’s leaning closer, eyes closing, and Gou wonders if the deafening sound of heartbeat in her ears is hers or his. _Oh_ , she thinks, as she slowly closes her eyes and lets a soft sigh before closing the gap between their lips, _this is it_. 

Her lips tingle at the first touch, and something in her stomach bursts into what feels like a thousand butterflies, buzzing in a weirdly pleasant way to the rhythm of her heart, pounding hard in her ears. His lips are warm, soft if slightly chapped, a firm line as it moves against her own, and the butterflies in her stomach reaches her throat, bringing with them her heart that she forgets to breathe. 

Distantly, she feels Sousuke’s fingers on her shoulder tighten, and then Sousuke pulls back slowly. There’s an urge to chase after him, to press her lips against his once again and perhaps more, but Sousuke presses their foreheads together, and Gou could hear the blood rushing back into her head. 

“Uh,” she says, feeling light-headed and realizing fully how dumb she sounds. Her cheeks feel too warm, and is it just her, or Sousuke’s breath feels hotter? Gou flexes her fingers, only noticing just now that they’re grasping Sousuke’s shirt, and wonders if she could just keep them there. She inhales, thinks about how their breaths mingle into one, and feels her heart jumps up to her throat again. 

Sousuke stares at her, looking like he’s half-drunk, which is weird because she knows both of them had only had two cans of beer. He clears his throat, and the light from the screen falls just _so_ over his face, highlighting the shade of red on his cheeks, and Gou nearly loses her breath all over again. 

“Was that,” Sousuke murmurs, and their noses bumps softly as he tilts his head. “Exciting enough, then?” 

Gou’s throat feels dry. She thinks her brain must have malfunctioned, a little bit, because instead of answering, what she blurts out is, “Can I kiss you again?”

Sousuke laughs, low and throaty, and Gou swats at his cheek before leaning up to press their lips together again.

**\-----o0o-----**

“Do you think we’ll make it to Doai Station before four?”

The digital clock on the car’s CD player blinks into 14.15. Gou glances back out the window, lips tugging up when she begins to catch the span of white over the hills on her left. While Tokyo already has several cherry blossom trees blooming early, it seems like the quiet outskirts of Minakami, Gunma, isn’t quite letting the winter go, yet, judging by the expanse of snow covering the hills and mountain. Some of the ski loggings seem to still be open, despite the fact that it’s March and winter vacation is ending for technically everyone.

“We’re already in Minakami,” Sousuke replies, one hand fiddling with the CD player—the shuffle had been landing them Kotonoha no Niwa soundtracks for the past fifteen minutes, and while Gou loves them, piano background music is what Sousuke would listen to when he’s trying to fall asleep, not driving. “If we have a quick lunch now, we can make it to Doai Station before four.”

“You’re sure we’re not going to miss the train? If we do, the next train isn’t until five-thirty.”

“We can drive all the way up to Niigata if we miss the train.”

“Sousuke, you’re missing my point,” Gou turns at him with an exaggerated pout. “What’s the use of even driving all the way to Minakami if we aren’t going to Doai Station? Besides, none of us have ever been there. Aren’t you curious?”

Their car passes the bridge into the town of Minakami—a sleepy onsen town still blanketed in snow even in March. Sousuke focuses on the winding path taking them down the valley, as Gou lowers the volume of their music before lowering the passenger window, letting the last bite of winter chill in, chasing the last of capital city fatigue away.

“The air is so nice,” Gou sighs. “I can’t wait to get into the onsen tonight.”

Down the road, from one of the ryokan, white puffs of onsen fog trail up the sky, disappearing into the somber blue sky. 

**\-----o0o-----**

When Sousuke gets back from the onsen, it is to their futon set side-by-side and a red-faced Gou sitting by the window.

“It wasn’t me,” Gou says quickly before he could even comment on it, even though they both know of course it wasn’t Gou who set out the futon. “When I got back from the onsen, they already set out the futon like— _like that_.”

Side-by-side, pressing close. Clearly insinuating what the ryokan staff thinks they are.

“Technically they aren’t wrong,” Sousuke says, and watches in fascination as the shade of red across Gou’s face turns deeper. “Come on, Gou, we went in here holding hands, they know you’re my girlfriend. They just—assumed more, I guess.”

Gou huffs. “Of course you don’t mind.”

“I don’t really,” Sousuke admits honestly, bypassing the futon to sit with Gou by the window. There’s another cup of green tea waiting on the table, but he prefers cold beverages after bath, so he reaches out to the tiny fridge instead, pulling out a bottle of barley tea before settling down next to Gou. He peers down at her, frowning. “Are you mad about it?”

Silence for a moment, and then Gou’s head shakes once. “Not really.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Does it bother _you_?” Gou lobs back the question to him, dancing eyes matching the teasing smile, and Sousuke snorts, bops the side of her head with the bottle he’s holding. Gou makes a cute yelp, retaliates with an elbow to his ribs. Her yukata rides up her thigh as she does so, and Sousuke oh-so-casually pulls the fabric back down.

Gou looks at him in amusement. “Such a gentleman.”

That’s because she can’t read the dirty thoughts crossing Sousuke’s mind when he catches the yukata rides up her thigh, revealing smooth skin and—yeah, let’s not think about that. Tonight is already challenging enough, with the futon set like that. He does, however, takes the bait, and answers, “I can be not a gentleman, too.”

Gou hums, doesn’t move away when Sousuke rests his chin on top of her head, pulling her close. “Do you plan to be a gentleman tonight?”

“That’s not a choice,” he replies, lightly, and then pauses, because is he supposed to read further into that? “Uh. Unless you—don’t want me to?”

Gou flushes red, and Sousuke’s brain short-circuited, because _what_.

“I thought the futon bothers you,” he says, carefully extracting himself away from Gou because this isn’t something he could thread while cuddling his girlfriend close like that. Gou seems to relax a little bit as he draws away, shoulders relaxing, and he wonders how he didn’t notice how wound up Gou has been ever since he entered the room. “You know I wouldn’t—“

“I know,” Gou peers up at him, and the small smile on her lips hits Sousuke with such a relief. “And it doesn’t—the futon, I mean, it doesn’t really bother me. I just thought it’s embarrassing, that the staff here just assume other people’s—“ she pauses, clears her throat, and continues despite the way her blush spread down to her neck. “—sex life, I guess. Or lack thereof? I don’t know. I know you wouldn’t just—attack me in the middle of the night.”

“Lack thereof,” Sousuke echoes, completely at loss. He wonders if Rin would still hit him in the face if he calls him to ask whether or not Gou was insinuating that she wants to have sex with him, or if it was just his brain translating everything through the gutter. “I—“

“I mean,” Gou cuts him off, looking embarrassed. “We’ve been going out for almost a year now? And uh, you’ve been a really great boyfriend and all, and I know I’m taking it really, really slow, compared to how much faster Oniichan and Makoto-san are—“ and here, both of them make a face at each other, “—so I just want you to know that I appreciate it, really.”

“Okay,” Sousuke says slowly.

“Okay,” Gou echoes, lips thinning. “I mean, you were the one planning this whole trip, and I thought, maybe you want our, uh, first time to be—I don’t know, special? With the whole onsen, and ryokan, and some place where Oniichan can’t punch you in the face.” She scratches her cheek with a finger, laughing nervously. “But I guess you weren’t actually planning for it, huh?”

First time. Special. And those are pretty much what Sousuke’s brain could work through. “Gou,” he says, because he’s an idiot when it comes to things like this. “Are you saying you want to have sex with me?”

Gou stares at him. He stares back. She stares at him some more.

And then she groans.

“You,” she points at him in exasperation. “Have no tact. None whatsoever, none of you boys do, and I shouldn’t have been surprised, honestly. Why did I even get myself all worked up about this trip, you clearly wasn’t planning anything—“

“I have a condom,” Sousuke says. “In my wallet.”

“—I don’t know why I thought you were—wait,” Gou pauses, eyes wide. “You have a condom.”

Sousuke shrugs. “I keep one in my wallet at all times.”

Gou looks at him suspiciously. “How old is it?”

“I only started keeping a few months ago. Makoto said it’s better to be prepared, and Nagisa brought me some freebies from the drug store he part-timed in.” Sousuke hesitates, before gesturing towards the futon. “So, are we making use of those, or…?”

Gou is the one who kisses him first, this time.

Sousuke learns, later, that there’s so much of Gou he’s never noticed before—not until he brushes long strands of red hair over Gou’s bare shoulder, until he hides a groan in the crook of Gou’s neck. Tiny shoulders, narrow under his splayed fingers, and soft arms long enough to wind around his torso, carefully trimmed nails skittering over his back as Gou pants against his lips. She feels small; much smaller than she usually is in his arms, and Sousuke, for the first time, fears that Gou would break under him.

But she doesn’t. If anything, she pushes back, pulls at him with a fierce determination, bright eyes lost in pleasure, and Sousuke falls in love all over again. 

**\-----o0o-----**

As they stepped out of the restaurant on the side of the road, the wind is picking up, and the snowfall is getting much heavier.

Gou glances at the station building on the next block, shooting a grin at Sousuke, who is pulling up his winter coat hood. “Isn’t it good that we decided to eat here? Not even five minutes to walk to the station.”

Sousuke looks up, his breath a white puff against the chilly air. “If it’s snowing like this here, it’s definitely snowing even harder in Niigata.”

“The scenery will be so pretty,” Gou tells him, reaching out to catch Sousuke’s hand in hers, pulling him forward. “Come on, Sousuke, let’s go, we have fifteen minutes before the train comes, and there’s still a long way until the platform.”

“Wait,” Sousuke says, pulling her back, and before Gou could protest, his fingers are taking her own coat hoodie, pulling it up over her head, keeping snow off her hair. She looks up, smiling, and lets Sousuke lean in for a kiss.

In the midst of flurry white, by an unmanned station that would lead them down the path into the depth of the mountain, Gou stands on her tiptoe and bites Sousuke’s nose lightly, laughter bubbling up her throat as she pulls away and runs up the wooden building.

Doai Station stands, quiet and deserted, the big wooden plank above the entrance: _Japan’s Deepest Station_. 

**\-----o0o-----**

The wooden floor is cold under her bare feet.

“Even if I told you not to go,” Sousuke says, and she wants to be angry, wants to yell, because Sousuke doesn’t get to hurt her like this. Not when this isn’t supposed to be the end— _their_ end—not when this doesn’t have to be their end. “You’ll still go, right?”

Outside, the blizzard rages. One of the worst in the past few years of Tokyo’s winter, the news said earlier this morning, exactly when Gou checked her e-mail to find that she’d been accepted for a Master program at her chosen University in Germany. The pleasant surprise seems so far away now, with Sousuke standing by the door, his winter coat in his arms, eyes hard and the line of his lips tight.

“It’s _just_ Germany,” she says, too quietly, because she knows it’s not _just_. It’s another continent away. But her older brother and Makoto had been okay, Rei and Nagisa had been okay, even with a whole continent separating them. Long-distance relationship shouldn’t scare them, not when their closest friends had braved through it. And yet. And yet Sousuke wouldn’t.

Even from across her apartment room, she could see the way his jaw tightens. “Gou.”

“I want to go,” she says. Hopes he would understand. “This is important for me, Sousuke.”

Sousuke’s gaze is knife-sharp. “And us?” The words, harsh, echoes to the corners of the room. “It’s less important?”

She meets his gaze—and she wants to yell at him, wants to throw something, because of all things he could say, Sousuke deliberately chooses ones that cut. “You know that’s not true. It’s not—it shouldn’t be a choice, is it? My dream, and us.”

“It’s Germany,” Sousuke repeats, eyes narrowing, and she holds his eyes almost defiantly.

“It’s _only_ Germany.”

Sousuke barks out a laugh, shakes his head, and turns around.

“I don’t believe that,” he says, and that’s the last thing Gou hears before the door opens and he disappears out into the night.

**\-----o0o-----**

Four hundred and eighty six steps down. Seventy meters underground.

Gou falters in front of the first step down the Shin-Shimizu Tunnel where they have to go down to reach the train platform. She leans forward curiously, tries to see the end of the tunnel, and finds nothing but what looks like a yawning hole and endless stairs straight down.

“It’s darker than I thought,” she tells Sousuke, who pauses right next to her. “Maybe because it’ll be nightfall, soon? The lights turn on automatically, right?”

“They should,” Sousuke answers. He looks around, more bothered that it seems like only the two of them are going down the stairs. There hadn’t been anyone since they went into the unattended station—they can’t even use their IC cards and had to buy actual tickets. Sousuke hasn’t touched actual paper train ticket in _years_. “Think it’s okay to go down?”

“Four hundred and eighty six steps down,” Gou says, excitement underlining her voice. “Have you ever read the novel, Sousuke? If you go down the long, long tunnel into the depth of the mountain, at the end of the tunnel, you’ll find the Country of Snow.” She turns around, grinning at him, and extends her hand. “Well, let’s go. To the Country of Snow.”

He stares at her hand for a second, a familiar amusement tickling, before he takes her hand with a smile.

"I hope we make it before dinner.”

**\-----o0o-----**

“Come over for Christmas dinner,” Rin had told him.

He’d also conveniently forgotten to mention that Gou is currently back in Tokyo—winter recess, Makoto explained with a too-innocent smile that cemented Sousuke’s suspicion that they’re doing this on purpose—and the she’d also be coming for dinner. Honestly, Sousuke would have been fine with it; he’d missed Gou, and even if they’re no longer a couple, it doesn’t mean that he loves her any less. It’s awkward as hell, but a large part of him cherishes the chance to be close enough to ruffle her hair or just enjoy her presence.

Except then Rin purposefully sends the two of them to get the Christmas cake from the bakery one station away, because Makoto needs to help him with the cooking (nevermind the fact that they all know Makoto is a disaster in the kitchen).

She looks up at him, smiles, and says, “You look healthy.”

Sousuke thinks she looks much, much more mature than the last time he saw her properly. Her face is thinner, and the bangs framing her hair is much shorter, now that she keeps her hair above her shoulders. But all he says is, “It’s good to see you, Gou,” and Gou’s chuckle, somehow, sounds so much quieter in the empty street.

Gou has her white scarf winding firmly around her neck, and she fluffs it up to hide the lower half of her face from the biting winter wind as they walk. The silence between them when their small talk ceases feels oddly companionable, if a bit awkward, and Sousuke misses her—misses her with a yawning ache in his chest, misses the glint in her eyes and the laugh that tinkles in his ear. Misses the bright note of her voice, and the warmth of her hand in his own.

She’s here, Sousuke thinks. An arm reach away, and yet.

“You’re quiet,” Gou says, once they step out of the bakery and are walking through the _shoutengai_ back towards the station. The station building is bright in front of them, warm and abuzz with people—children running up to their parents with boxes of cake in their arms, couples holding hands, groups of laughing girls hanging out by the gate. The Christmas tree in front of the station sparkles with so many lights, and that’s where Gou stops for a moment, peering up at him. “Sousuke-kun?”

It should feel familiar, to have Gou look at him that way. Calling him ‘Sousuke-kun’ instead of simply his name. But it doesn’t, and Sousuke hates the careful way Gou stares at him, because there’s distance between them that shouldn’t have been there, made out of what-ifs and if-only’s, a chasm he can’t cross because he had been the one turning his back to Gou and ended everything.

It’s his own fault, really. For not believing, for not wanting to try. For being a coward.

So he smiles, brittle and bitter, and says, “I’m just glad you’re doing well.”

Gou’s eyes hold his gaze, searching steadily, and her eyes soften as she opens her mouth. “You know, I—“

An express train passes the station, the sounds of its wheels against the railways almost deafening, drowning out the rest of the syllables before they even leave her lips. Sousuke watches her pause, watches her stop, and a part of him wants to reach out, wants to pull her in and let her whisper the secret against his ear. He doesn’t, because Gou’s eyes slide away from him, and what should have been words turn into a sad smile.

And god, it tears at him.

“Gou,” he calls, and remembers how it had been Gou who’d reached out the first time their feelings found shapes, remembers how it had always been Gou to close the last of their distance. This one time, Sousuke tells himself, just this once, he reaches out and touches Gou’s shoulder, tentatively. “I’m sorry. For—the last time.”

He sees the line of Gou’s lips twist, thinning. “It’s already in the past. Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not okay,” he says, because he knows it wasn’t. He knows it shouldn’t have been a choice, between Gou’s dream and their relationship. It wasn’t Gou’s fault that he hadn’t believed. “I’m not—I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

He’s never been good with words, but damn if he wouldn’t try. So he pushes through, chooses the syllables, and shapes out the words, “Can I hope, still?”

He wishes Gou would brighten up—wishes Gou would look at him the way she’d looked at him back then, hopeful and slightly embarrassed, but with a smile that spells happiness better than anything Sousuke could remember. But Gou doesn’t. Instead, there’s doubt lurking behind the hope in her eyes, in the careful way her lips curve up, in the way she draws her shoulders together.

“I don’t know,” she murmurs, and something in Sousuke’s chest drops. “I think I’m okay now, by myself. But—“

She glances at Sousuke, eyes soft and fond, as she finishes, “I never stopped loving you, you know.”

Hope soars. It’s a giddy rush, and Sousuke sucks in a breath. “Gou—“

“I’m okay now,” Gou repeats, and her smile is still sad. “I don’t know if I want to try again, and I still have to go back to Germany. Maybe it’s better not to decide now? If that’s okay?”

And strangely, it is. Maybe it’s because Gou still loves him, even after everything. Maybe it’s the soft gaze she gives Sousuke, or perhaps it’s the crinkle in her eyes when she smiles at him at last—no longer sad, just accepting and open, and Sousuke falls back into steps by her side. Her scarf catches the tips of his fingers, warm and fluffy to the touch, and Sousuke smiles.

Somewhere along the way, in-between the brush of their arms, their fingers catch and hold on.

**\-----o0o-----**

The train comes with a deafening groan—a single blinding light in the dark tunnel, just as the two of them steps off the last step of the stairs and onto the platform. There are about ten other people scattered around the platform, most of them with their cameras out, snapping away as the train comes to a stop.

“We could have driven all the way to Niigata,” Sousuke reminds her. Gou elbows him playfully on the ribs, and pulls at him to board on the train before the conductor yells at them.

Seventy meters deep inside the mountain, in an old train with doors that don’t work automatically, Sousuke sits with Gou glued over to the window. The train is surprisingly full with people—not the Tokyo rush hour sort of full, but enough that some people don’t get seats. Beyond the window is unsettling darkness that continues for more than ten minutes, but then Gou grasps at his hand, and tugs excitedly.

“Sousuke, the Country of Snow!”

The tunnel ends, and the darkness gives way to lands of pure white snow, high enough to reach windows of houses, burying fences and graves as the train pass by. The sun doesn’t even shine that brightly, but the expanse of white feels shockingly blinding. It’s white, wherever they turn to, and snowflakes are fluttering down the sky still, fragile and ethereal as they get caught on the train windows.

Outside is quiet and still, a white land frozen in time, where spring dares not to touch.

“Beautiful,” Gou breathes, eyes wide as she drinks the view from behind the windows, and Sousuke thinks, _you, too_.

The expanse of untouched snow continues on as snow begins to fall heavier. They get off at the town of Yuzawa—a quaint little town where the Snow Tribe lives one through memories, and the place where Rin and Makoto’s wedding reception would be. It’s white, too, here—the snow, the buildings, their breaths—and Sousuke tugs the hood of Gou’s coat back on as they step out of the station.

Gou smiles. _Thank you_ , she mouths, puffs of white air hanging in the air, and Sousuke leans down to breathe them in.

**\-----o0o-----**

“Do you think I’ll be happy, Oniichan?”

There’s a part of her that never grows up, Gou thinks. One tiny part that would always seek for the hem of Rin’s shirt, to catch, to hold on to, because she knows her older brother will keep her safe, even when she doesn’t need him to. Even today, as she walks and drowns in silky pure white with a bouquet of deep red roses in her hands, she still reaches out for the hem of Rin’s black suit, latching to the most familiar reassurance she could find.

Rin huffs. “I’ll punch him myself if he doesn’t make you happy,” he says, but then pauses, slowly pries Gou’s fingers away from his suit, and holds her hand gently. “Is what I want to say, but really. He’s not the one to decide that, is he?”

Her smile trembles. For once, she wonders how she’s ever been so sure about everything in her life. “No. Maybe. I hope not.”

“That’s right,” Rin grins. “You’re the one who gets to decide that. Whether you’re happy or not. You’re been doing it really well, too. Nothing to worry about here, I guess.”

Gou laughs, and regrets it immediately because her throat starts closing up. It’s no good to cry before the ceremony even begins, she reminds herself, so she blinks back the tears, and tries for a steady smile. Rin’s hold on her hand tightens, which means she’s failed spectacularly on that.

“I—“ oh, her voice is beginning to wobble. “I want to be happy. With Sousuke.”

It’s strange, how those words seem to summarize everything she’s gone through ever since they began their relationship. A simple wish with a thousand different ways to get to it, but in the end, this is the way they choose: her in white, grand wedding gown that she almost feels silly to be in, and Sousuke, somewhere behind this door, waiting with the rest of their family and friends while she clings to the last of her childhood comfort.

Rin squeezes her hand, and she could see tears in his eyes, too.

“You’ll be just fine,” he tells her, and she mirrors his trademark Matsuoka grin. “Go.”

She does. The door opens as she steps forward, leaving behind doubts and hesitance as she looks forward, and finds Sousuke’s eyes. Sousuke’s smile. The stiffness in his shoulders, and the sheepish grin he gives as she steps up and lets go of Rin’s hand to take Sousuke’s.

No turning back, she tells herself, and feels Sousuke tightens their hold. She looks up, searches him, and finds the familiar, soft smile he’d always kept for her—for years, she thinks, for so many years. Through indirect kisses and innocent piggybacks home, or jackets draped over her shoulders and shared secrets in-between sheets.

Sousuke etches I-love-you against her lips, and in return, Gou engraves her laughter into the kiss.

**\----o0o-----**

The lobby of the hotel room they arrive at is pure white—the only specks of colors coming from bouquets of flowers on the corners and the muted green carpets under their feet. Haruka and Aki are the only ones in the lobby, and Aki takes the moment to literally fly into Gou’s arms like they hadn’t just seen each other last month. Gou takes one look around, and whispers a secret into Sousuke’s ear: “I hope they have better decorations at the reception hall.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if Rin has a cherry blossom tree shipped into the reception hall,” Sousuke replies, straight-faced.

“He had one shipped,” Haruka confirms, but the corner of his lips tugs up in amusement, which means he could actually be lying, and Gou laughs because her brother has such _terrible_ friends, really. “So if you’re getting one for his wedding gift, you’re going to have to change it now.”

Gou waves at him, grinning almost too giddily. “Sorry, Haruka-san, but your wedding gift for Oniichan and Makoto-san is going to lose to ours.” She glances up at Sousuke, pressing close to his side, eyebrows raising. “Right?”

Aki tilts her head curiously. “Really? What did you get them for a wedding gift?”

“Well,” Gou says, shoulder shaking in laughter, as she feels Sousuke’s hand sneaks around her waist and rests over her belly. She lies her hand on top of his, eyes dancing as she turns to Aki. “It’s not exactly a normal wedding gift, but we figured a good surprise would be a great gift anyway. Especially because I might just let Oniichan name them.”

Silence stretches for a moment as realization dawns, and then Aki shrieks in joy.

Later, in the middle of their wedding reception, Matsuoka Rin blubbers a tearful congratulation into his younger sister’s shoulder even as he makes threat of punching Sousuke in the face. Gou valiantly saves her husband by threatening to not let Rin name her kids if he’s going to punch said kids’ father. She gets to take the first dance, too, with Rin, and laughes as Rin twirls her into Makoto’s arms, who then surrenders her over to Sousuke, whose arms stay around her all night.

And really, she’s quite sure that she’s happy.

**\-----o0o-----**

**Author's Note:**

> Tanka: A form of classical Japanese poem.  
> Ryokan: Japanese traditional-style inns.  
> Shoutengai: Japan's traditional (??) shopping district (except it's not quite a district orz I can't explain this well).  
> [Doai Station and Shin-Shimizu Tunnel](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doai_Station), and [the Country of Snow (Yukiguni)](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snow_Country).  
> Fun fact: "It's bad luck to go to DisneySea/Disneyland for your first date" is an actual superstition among the Japanese, apparently. I was surprised too lol.  
> Confession: I really wanted a traditional Japanese wedding for SouGou but this is already super long I had to scrape it lmao


End file.
